


last dance

by lacquer



Series: love + fear [1]
Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Actors, Alternate Universe - Always a Different Sex, Exes, F/F, What Could Have Been
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-09
Updated: 2019-09-09
Packaged: 2020-10-13 05:02:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,982
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20576888
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lacquer/pseuds/lacquer
Summary: Minghao and Seokmin have a conversation. Sometimes the past is unavoidable.





	last dance

**Author's Note:**

> hi!! i listened to baby (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pm1pSzJS9sk) six times in a row and then vomited out this, completely unprompted. unbeta'd and l looked it over maybe once, so the clarity is debatable. i completely winged it with the artist and actor awards, so don't expect any real world parallels there. i'll probably be back to edit more thoroughly but in the mean time, have fun?

When Seokmin descends the staircase, it’s to thunderous applause. The weight of her accomplishments sits heavy on her neck, two year’s worth of filming distilled down to a gold medallion, inscribed with the words _People’s Choice. _It’s a heady weight to bear after only seven years in the industry, and Seokmin tries not to let it go to her head, stepping delicately down into the crowd.

As soon as she’s away from the stairs, Jeonghan steps up to her side, taking up her hand with an easy grace that belies the reassurance packed into the gesture. Seokmin squeezes it, carefully navigating around the people eager to congratulate her. It hasn’t yet been a week since the news was announced, and there are still far too many parties interesting in getting a piece of her.

Seokmin leans into the steady warmth of Jeonghan’s side and smiles up at her as the crowd begins to thin. Jeonghan smiles back and asks, “Tired of recognition yet?”

Truthfully, Seokmin is still having trouble believing that the attention _exists, _let alone considering getting tired of it. She’s told Jeonghan this before, knows that the words are simply her way of poking at Seokmin’s nerves until they deflate a bit. It works for the most part. “Of course not. I’m still— People liked my performance that much?”

Jeonghan’s smile softens with understanding and she leans down to brush a kiss against Seokmin’s cheek. Seokmin is so _so _lucky. “You deserve it. Does the woman of the hour want anything to drink?”

A smile lights its way across Seokmin’s face. “Surprise me.”

“Of course.” Jeonghan releases her hand with a final squeeze, turning and walking into the crowd.

Without the bulwark of her girlfriend by her side, people once again flock to Seokmin’s side. She navigates it for a few minutes before the crush becomes overwhelming and she starts making excuses to escape.

Around the room, music swells, cueing the first dance of the night and Seokmin breathes a sigh of relief. Soon enough Jeonghan will be back with drinks and they can wander around the room on their own terms, take on the mass of people together.

Dancers are beginning to pair up around her, the prelude to a waltz humming softly over their heads. Seokmin is about to find a wall to stand beside when someone taps her on the shoulder and asks, “May I have this dance?”

Seokmin turns, refusal already on her lips. Pauses, when she sees who it is. Freezes.

Minghao raises one perfectly plucked eyebrow at her, and Seokmin swallows around a lump in her throat. Breathes in instead and says, “Of course.”

They’re not far from the dancefloor, but Minghao takes her hand anyway, leads her to it. Seokmin tries to think of words as they walk, something that doesn’t sound like useless platitudes. Nothing comes to mind. This is not a new feeling when it comes to Minghao, but Seokmin hadn’t expected to see her here tonight, hadn’t prepared for the shock.

She looks good. A dark red dress is wrapped around her shoulders and down her waist in a waterfall of fabric, hair styled so that part of it rests over her shoulders. Of course, Seokmin had known she was still stunning. Dig back far enough in her internet history you would find Xu Minghao there for all the world to see. And oh, there’s a lot to see. Two awards for best upcoming musical act, one album of the year award, even a Grammy nomination, all glittering on her Wikipedia page like gold, evidence of a career hard-won.

Seokmin had wanted to say something when the news came, send a greeting card perhaps, but in the end, the very banality of the gesture had stopped her cold. She didn’t want to be the girl who sent Xu Minghao greeting cards as if they hadn’t known each other for years. So she chose to be less than that. Sent nothing at all and watched her acceptance speech for album of the year six times in a row, memorizing the way her makeup smudged as she talked about things like _inspiration, _and _family._

There was no mention of Seokmin. Then again, why should there be?

When they finally get to the center of the floor, Minghao turns to her. There’s a certain reserve to her face as she looks at Seokmin, but her voice is nothing but warm when she says, “Congratulations on your award, you deserve it.”

“Thank you.” Seokmin says, mouth half on autopilot. She places her one of her hands tentatively on Minghao’s shoulder, asks her to lead without words. “I didn’t know you watched the movie?”

Minghao seems to get the message, placing one of her own hands carefully on Seokmin’s waist in return. Takes her other hand gently. “I did. Your acting was stunning. I loved the scene on the balcony especially.”

That scene was one of Seokmin’s favorites as well. They had gotten it down in four takes, the director bringing them inside and showing Seokmin her own face, lips parted in wonder. It wasn’t the most emotional scene of the movie, but it was the first time her character showed another side to herself. A new beginning.

“I’m glad you liked it.” Again, Seokmin falls silent, still at a loss for words. Thankfully, this is when the music begins to play in earnest, an upbeat waltz filling the room.

Minghao had taught her how to dance half a lifetime ago, and with her hand on Seokmin’s hip it’s easy to fall back into those familiar patterns, stepping in time with the music. They twirl around the ballroom, the waltz bringing them close enough to touch and back again, distance only constant in its motion.

Halfway through their first circuit, Seokmin works up the courage to say, “Congratulations on _Story and Song_ by the way. It’s incredible.”

Minghao dips her head; it’s half a bow, half an attempt at hiding her expression. From this angle, Seokmin can see her mouth pulled into something not quite a smile. When she looks back up at Seokmin, no remnants of it remain. “Thank you. I wrote a song in there for you, you know?”

Seokmin’s heart does a double take, pauses its considerations and plays back the track list of Minghao’s latest release. It was a mixture of up-tempo EDM and slower ballads—electronic music with softened edges—and without fail, made up entirely of love songs.

She’s almost afraid to ask. She does anyway. “Oh? Which one?”

Minghao answers without looking away. Seokmin wonders what she’s looking for. “Starlight.” The most bittersweet of all of them. A song about unavoidable fate, of longing despite that. Even the word itself conjures up memories. The open sky. Minghao’s mouth on hers. The ground breathing dew onto their shins. Fireflies—stars brought down to earth.

The thought occupies her mind for a second, and when she tunes back into reality, Minghao is still watching her, something unreadable on her face. It’s almost familiar for a split second, the hazy edge of recollection overlapping the present with an ease that almost makes Seokmin dizzy. She’s 27 and 22 all at once, time stitched together by memory.

“It’s beautiful,” Seokmin says, and normally she would say more, but something about the situation stays her tongue, keeps her still even as they dance. There’s always been an element of uncertainty to Minghao, a little bit of an open-ended question to the whole affair, but it’s more pronounced now. Makes her unsteady.

Minghao nods and opens her arms for a spin that Seokmin goes through with easily, catching herself in Minghao’s arms on the return. They go back to waltzing and Minghao says, “I can travel now.”

Even as Seokmin’s heart jumps, something else sinks there, heavy as a stone. That would mean… “I’m sorry for your loss.”

“Thank you.” Minghao says, steady as could be expected. “She died peacefully.” They spend another half-rotation just dancing, Seokmin’s eyes locked on Minghao’s feet.

The past is beating double-time now, history come to run her blood green over what she could have had. What they could have had. “That doesn't change anything, you know. We had our last chance.”

Minghao nods. “We did.”

She doesn’t argue the point and Seokmin doesn’t argue that she should have stayed. There are some things that Minghao will always fold for. Her family is one of them.

Back to the internet thing. Dig back far enough, and you would find Seokmin’s search history full of plane fares, bags sitting in a state of half-packed for months. A cell phone, buzzing with texts. The withdrawal papers for one of Korea’s best arts universities sitting on her bed, already filled out.

Minghao’s voice on the other end of an international phone call, an iron bar over an already closed door. _“Don’t follow me here. It’s not worth it”_

As for what came after that: It was all well and good to say, “_Let’s not try long distance. I don’t know how long it will be,” _but the reality hurt. Was a shard of glass in the heart, cutting new lines every time she breathed too deep. Better to avoid it completely than let it destroy her down to the marrow.

Seokmin isn’t sure whether it was selfishness or something else, but apparently she was the type of person who couldn’t handle being friends with her ex. (_Ex what?_ She sometimes asks herself. Every time, the question comes back water-clear and crystalline. _Ex-everything.)_

Here in her arms, present day Minghao is pressed so close that Seokmin can almost feel her heartbeat. They stand there for a moment, then move away as the music continues on. Minghao’s hair swipes across her collarbones, a wave of dark silk. “That was the last time we really spoke.”

“I can’t go back. I’m already…” Seokmin trails off, Jeonghan’s name on her tongue. Inadvertently she looks over Minghao’s shoulder, sees her waiting with their drinks.

Minghao turns them with a few steps, sees who Seokmin was looking at. And to Seokmin’s surprise, she smiles. It’s small and more than a bit wry, but it’s genuine.

Around them, the song plays out its final notes, partners breaking apart, applause filling the room. For one beautiful second, Seokmin can see how it might have been. Minghao by her side. Seokmin, the one who had gone to China, smiling on her arm.

Or no, even more than that, a world where Minghao didn’t have to go at all. Another place and time, one where Seokmin could reach out and brush aside Minghao’s hair, lean close, hold her hand and not feel punched in the gut. 

Do you want to know a secret? Staring up at the empty sky, shooting a scene about new beginnings for the fourth time, Seokmin had thought about Minghao. Had thought about those same stars above her head and held that longing so close that it alchemized itself, a stubborn rock breaking down into soil. A place for something new to grow.

Seokmin closes her eyes, breathes in. Dismisses the daydream. “I don’t think we should dance together anymore.”

Minghao looks at her, that same unreadability to the slant of her mouth. And then she nods. Just before Seokmin slips away, Minghao runs a hand down her arm, wrapping her fingers around her wrist. “We could have been something great I think.”

Seokmin turns her hand until she can thread her fingers with Minghao’s. Smiles, even if it’s small. “You’ve never been one to regret the past, Minghao.”

“I can’t call it regret. Not when it’s you.” With that, Minghao untangles their fingers and pushes Seokmin towards the edge of the crowd where Jeonghan is waiting with drinks. “I hope you have a good night Seokmin.”

And for the second time in her life, Seokmin walks away.

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! if you enjoyed this, i would love to hear your thoughts <3
> 
> i'm on twitter/cc @lavenderim if you'd like to chat!


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